


Natural Order

by miera



Series: Worthless [6]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-29
Updated: 2010-01-29
Packaged: 2017-10-06 19:03:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miera/pseuds/miera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trip wrestles with his conscience and some other things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Natural Order

**Author's Note:**

> So while Malcolm suffers in the aftermath of "Worthless," what's Trip thinking? Semi-companion piece to "Spilled." Takes place a couple weeks later.

"Come on, Trip, talk to me."

Trip blinked. Was he having a dj vu moment? "I'm sorry, Captain?"

Archer was standing next to Trip's station, arms folded. "You and Malcolm. What's going on?"

Panic rose up in Trip's throat. "I'm not sure what you mean."

Archer saw his friend's guilty look and he shook his head. "You're being way too polite to each other. It's not natural. What happened? Did you have a fight?"

Trip took a deep breath. "We had a bit of a misunderstanding, that's all."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Jon's eyes were full of sympathy.

"Nah," he strived to keep his tone nonchalant, looking back to his work. "We'll sort it out eventually." Silently he was praying that Jon wouldn't take it upon himself to interfere. That would only exacerbate the situation. "It's not a big deal."

"If you say so. It's just strange to see you two getting along so well," Jon chuckled. Malcolm and Trip were very much opposites and he relied on their differing points of view to help him find the middle ground. With the two of them bending over backwards to accommodate each other, he was lost.

Archer left after Trip promised him a report on the upgrade plan by the end of the day. Trip's mind, however, was no longer on the engines. The thing between him and Malcolm was affecting their work now.

The thing. He had no name for this. It wasn't a fight. But it wasn't okay. It was...a thing.

A complication.

Malcolm was hurt. His method of dealing with that pain was to pull away into himself, which meant he was back to calling Trip by his rank all the time. Trip was appalled at the huge distance that had sprung up between them again, particularly since it was his own fault. Guilt nagged at him every time he saw the armory officer. Which hadn't been often lately. Both of them seemed to be passively avoiding the other.

Trip's not-so-brilliant method of trying to atone was to be far more patient and polite to the lieutenant than he was with anyone else. Somehow, he hoped it would convey his remorse, make up for his panic. Trip had never been one to stand on formality, which probably made his different treatment of Malcolm even more noticeable. Not to mention the fact that, as Archer pointed out, he and Malcolm had never gotten along great on duty to begin with.

Damn. It must be as obvious as a supernova that something had happened. Or more correctly, not happened.

He went over that night in Malcolm's quarters for the thousandth time. Malcolm opening up to him, telling Trip about something that was upsetting him. It was a tremendous step forward for their friendship.

_Then I had to go fuck it up_ Trip winced, attempting to get his attention back on his work. His mind refused to go. Memories rose in his head, unstoppable.

_...Malcolm took hold of my hand, skin pressed together, and my heart rate soared, and with it my entire nervous system became acutely aware of the minutest detail of the other person in the room, smell, touch, heat, standing very, very near..._

Trip closed his eyes and moaned softly.

He knew that moment. You were spending time with someone you liked, getting closer to them, establishing mutual trust, and the moment came when you were so close, the inevitable next step occurred.

The first kiss.

It was the natural order of any romantic relationship. The fact that he'd never been in that moment with another man didn't change the truth of it. The fact that he didn't consider his relationship to Malcolm romantic didn't change the truth of it either.

Trip sighed, also for about the thousandth time. He didn't know for sure why he had run. The little voice in his head had begun screaming that he had to get away from Malcolm right now, and he had done it, almost blindly.

He was afraid of what the cost would prove to be.

He was sorry for the pain he had caused, and he longed to make it right. Beyond his own sense of honor, he missed Malcolm. He missed making fun of bad movies and teasing Hoshi over meals. He missed sharing a knowing grin during a briefing when Archer and T'Pol argued over something. Hell, he even missed fighting with Reed over ship's resources.

He missed his friend. But how was he going to get him back? There was no way to apologize for what he had done. And how could he explain something he didn't even understand?

Being honest with him would be a start, Trip thought, and then swallowed hard. All of a sudden, the panic that had overtaken him in Malcolm's quarters that night was back, threatening to swallow him whole.

Being honest would mean talking to Malcolm. Talking to Malcolm would make it all real. Really real. There'd be no going back from that. It would make what he'd been thinking—and denying thinking—a reality, something concrete that had to be dealt with. He'd have to face everything he'd been trying not to think about for the past several weeks. Exposing himself and his feelings and having no control over the outcome. Not like in the little half-thoughts that he chased out of his brain when he was busy and was able to dwell on when he wasn't. Once this was out there in the open, he'd have to face whatever happened with no ability to predict it, or protect himself from it.

Speaking could kill his friendship with Malcolm. And honestly, that was slightly less frightening right now than the thought of Malcolm not being offended.

_The truth of it, Charles Tucker III, is you are scared shitless here._

Shaking his head, he started to pace back and forth across the office. It helped him to think, made him feel like he was able to do something with the cascade of thoughts racing across his head.

_What do you want?_

_I don't know._

_Bullshit._

_I'm not sure exactly what I want._

_OK so what do you know for sure?_

_I want Malcolm back. My friend. I want him back. I'm sure of that._

_Your cowardice is destroying that friendship._

_I know._

_So what will you do?_

Trip stopped and set his jaw. Maybe he didn't need to spill his guts entirely and make things more confusing, but the fact was he had never uttered a word of apology to Malcolm. He didn't have a nice, easy explanation, but friendship was supposed to be beyond that. It was not, however, beyond saying your sorry when you hurt someone.

Save the friendship first, worry about the rest later. It wasn't a complete solution, but it would at least be a start.

For the first time in days, Trip took a deep, easy breath. He looked at the clock. Shift was almost over. He would talk to Malcolm tonight. Even if just for a minute. Something he probably should've done weeks ago.

He started to walk over to the warp core's control panel, feeling more at peace with the universe than he had in weeks. He took two steps and then was thrown the rest of the distance towards the warp core by the force of something striking the ship.


End file.
